I scrubbed my face andwondered what she had thought. Had she guessed I was a cross-dresser?Maybe she thought I was an actor; maybe even an aging punk ...ocker.Something must have registered; she continued to stare as I returned toMs. Singer's office."What was that all about?" Ms. Singer asked, as I took a seat across fromher in the President Kennedy-like rocker."I had to wash my face. I had dressed earlier today and forgotten toremove my make-up." Were you afraid of what I would say?" No. I trust. Waiting. Was this a good idea? I wasn't sure. I nervously sipped on my drink and pulled my short skirt down, I didn't want it showing my stocking tops.I heard cheery laughter as Gemma chatted with Bob, and as he shared a joke about his dinner-with-a-client with his wife Carol. I had heard them go through and start talking quietly in the lounge, I couldn't make out what they were saying. Then the door to the kitchen opened and Gemma came in and looked at me. "OK, dear? Ready for. More

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